


How To Woo Your Manservant

by Ren



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Courtship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-18
Updated: 2010-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-13 06:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/134130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren/pseuds/Ren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur finally realizes he's hopelessly in love with Merlin, he has no idea how one is supposed to court his manservant but this won't stop him from trying. Repeatedly. Insistently. With flowers, chicken and destiny if he has to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Woo Your Manservant

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Cómo cortejar a tu sirviente](https://archiveofourown.org/works/541803) by [Ren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren/pseuds/Ren)



> Written for a [merlin_muses](http://community.livejournal.com/merlin_muses/) prompt. This is by far my longest fic, but writing this was a blast.
> 
> Beta by han_corrupted & quarterwhore - you two are awesome, I'd never have managed to finish it without your support!

It hadn't been love at first sight, Arthur was certain of that much at least. There had been no choir of angels, no pink clouds, no golden sparkles, no sudden revelation. Just a growing sense of _something_. It had taken Arthur months to piece it together.

It finally occurred to him one afternoon as he looked down into the courtyard from his window, tapping his fingers idly on the glass panes. He was going to be late for combat practice, but a certain idiot servant had taken away his armour to polish it and hadn't returned yet.

Arthur was about to go down to Gaius's rooms himself to see what had become of his armour when he finally saw Merlin hurrying across the courtyard with a large bundle in his arms.

"At long last!" Arthur muttered, only to splutter indignantly as Merlin stopped to greet Gwen who was walking down the castle's steps at that moment.

Arthur had to watch with mounting annoyance as Merlin (displaying his usual complete disregard for punctuality) launched into telling Gwen some kind of story. He was gesticulating as much as he could without dropping his burden, and Gwen started laughing.

Arthur noticed with growing discomfort that he wasn't just angry because of his servant's incompetence. (Sadly, by now he was used to it.) In truth he wished he could skip training altogether and join Gwen and Merlin in the courtyard. They seemed to be having fun together. Without him.

And that, Arthur thought, was a very stupid idea. Why should he care about two servants chatting together? It was none of his business.

Besides, whatever romantic feelings he might have had towards Guinevere had been truncated months ago when she'd made it clear that she was in love with another man. He hadn't been jealous of Lancelot at that time, so why should he be jealous of _Merlin_ now?

Just then Merlin looked up and caught Arthur's eye. With a start he waved goodbye to Gwen and rushed up the stairs and into the castle, disappearing from sight.

Arthur turned towards the door expectantly. "At long last," he repeated, and then it all made sense.

Except that it didn't make any sense because it wasn't been Merlin he was jealous of, it was Gwen. He was jealous of Gwen because she was talking with Merlin.

Merlin, who never bowed and always talked back and was the worst servant Arthur had ever seen. Merlin, who lied a lot but never about important things, and didn't like to follow orders but trusted Arthur blindly. Merlin, who'd gone from being a figure in the background to never leaving Arthur's thoughts at all.

Who was he trying to fool? He was in love with Merlin.

Arthur was still trying to come to grips with this new and terrifying idea when his door flew open and Merlin barged in, muttering something about armours and stains, and Arthur decided that it'd be a good idea to order him to muck the stables.

At least, Arthur reasoned, this would give him time to assess the situation so he could organize his thoughts before making a fool of himself in front of his servant. Or his love interest. Or whatever Merlin was at the moment. Arthur definitely needed more time to think about it.

Merlin grimaced. "Can't you just put me in the stocks?" he suggested. "At least I wouldn't go home smelling of horse dung again."

"If you don't go _now_ ," Arthur replied, "I'll have you muck the stables and then throw you in the stocks."

Merlin walked away grumbling, leaving Arthur to put on the armour on his own. As he joined his knights for his (very, very late) practice, he reflected that there were probably better ways to start a courtship than this.

Picking up his sword, Arthur thought the problem was that he had no idea of how a courtship was supposed to go.

 

From his few and unsuccessful attempts he seemed to recall that flowers featured prominently, but somehow getting Merlin a bunch of daisies or lilies or whatever didn't sound like a good plan. Merlin would probably laugh at it, and if there's something Arthur didn't want, it was making a fool of himself. He was already doing a good job of that without pansies entering the picture.

Usually in such a situation Arthur would have asked for Merlin's help, or rather ordered him to do something about it, but he couldn't very well do that now. And there was nobody else Arthur could turn to for advice.

Going to Morgana, who was the closest that Arthur had to a sibling, was out of question. Arthur doubted that her black heart had ever been capable of loving someone, and even if she could give Arthur some advice she'd tease him about it for the rest of eternity.

Gwen would surely be nicer about it, but there was something awkward in asking her for advice about courting Merlin after having asked Merlin for advice about courting Gwen. (Arthur blamed this on Merlin. He'd never had problems ordering servants around before Merlin had come along and demanded that he treated them as people, and now things were unnecessarily complicated.)

The list of people that Arthur could trust with his secret was dismally short. Lancelot was off in some faraway kingdom. Gaius was too close to Merlin and might let something slip.

His knights were loyal to Camelot but he couldn't imagine that they'd be any better with romance than himself. Besides, he could never be sure which ones were true friends and which ones were just trying to curry his favours. 

Leon, who was his current duelling partner, was quiet and sensible and not prone to chatter. Arthur was just thinking that maybe he could tell him about Merlin when the man lunged forward and caught him open, landing a heavy blow on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur lost his footing and fell backwards ungraciously in a crash of armour.

The other men in the training yard stopped to check if he was injured but Arthur waved them back to their sparring. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry about that, sire," Leon told him apologetically, offering him his hand. Arthur took it gratefully and pushed himself back to his feet, then tried to brush the dust off his breeches nonchalantly as if being knocked off his feet during practice was a common occurrence.

Which it was, to be sure, but usually _Arthur_ was the one who sent other knights flying. How long had it been since the last time he'd made such a blunder?

Leon seemed to be thinking among the same lines. "I thought you'd parry that," he said. "Are you all right?"

Arthur nodded quickly. "I'm fine," he replied. "Just... I'm fine."

That was a blatant lie, since he could already feel a huge bruise spreading through his upper arm and shoulder, but he couldn't tell Leon the truth now. Admitting that he'd been distracted by his love troubles would sound too much like an excuse, and a lame one at that.

Arthur gritted his teeth and tried not to think about Merlin at all. He just barely managed to avoid being caught off guard again that afternoon, but left the training yard feeling thoroughly beaten.

By the time he got back to his rooms, Arthur's shoulder was throbbing painfully and he felt the beginning of a headache. He wanted nothing better than to curl up in bed and go to sleep, but he also wanted to see Merlin since he'd barely had a chance to talk with him since that morning.

In the end Merlin won over sleep and Arthur threw himself on a chair and waited for Merlin to show up with his dinner.

He was gracious enough not to make any snide remarks even though Merlin arrived late, carrying a dish of chicken that had by now gone cold. He didn't say anything when Merlin made an unnecessary amount of noise setting it on the table, and refrained to mention the faint smell of horse manure that still clung to Merlin.

He was acting like a perfect gentleman. Arthur thought that, all in all, the evening was going well.

"Have I got something on my face?" Merlin asked suddenly, rubbing his cheek with his sleeve.

"What?" Arthur said, snapping out of his daydream. "No, you don't. Why?"

Merlin frowned and craned his head, trying to look into Arthur's mirror. "You've been staring at me all the time," he said.

"No, I haven't," Arthur replied quickly, then realized that it was probably a lie and hastened to change the subject. "How was your day?"

"Oh, it was great, sire," Merlin said with a grin. "It's good fun, mucking the stables."

Arthur's smile froze on his face and he privately cursed himself for being a fool. Wrong thing to say, but he couldn't think clearly now. His headache was getting worse, he was tired from training and Merlin was being the biggest distraction just by standing in front of Arthur's table.

"Yes, well, you _were_ late," Arthur said defensively, fidgeting with his potatoes.

"I was polishing your armour!" Merlin complained. "I did it as quickly as I could but there were all those stains from when you fought that green slimy creature and they were a real pain to remove..."

Merlin, Arthur thought, looked really adorable as he said that. As if he'd been the victim of some tyrannical prince, which was ridiculous since Arthur was always fair. And did he just think that Merlin was adorable? He really needed some sleep.

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, then noticed that Merlin had concluded his tirade and was looking at him expectantly. Arthur hadn't been listening, had there been a question?

For lack of anything better to say, Arthur smiled and said, "I saw you talking with Guinevere in the courtyard."

Then his brain caught up with his mouth and he wished he could take his words back. No need to bring that up, except that he just had.

He'd never mentioned Gwen to Merlin after their falling out. He hadn't even told him that there'd been a falling out, but he assumed Merlin had found out from Gwen. Merlin was very careful never to talk about Gwen in front of Arthur and Arthur was grateful for that since it would have been embarrassing to discuss how she dumped him.

Now Merlin looked sheepish. "I was just telling her about this troupe that arrived in Camelot for the festival," he said. "They've got jugglers and fools and acrobats, and they're going to do a big show on Midsummer's night..."

Arthur noticed the not-so-subtle attempt at changing the subject, but there was something else. He frowned.

"So that's where you went this morning," he said, pointing an accusatory fork. "I looked everywhere for you and you were slacking off with a circus?"

"No," Merlin said quickly, looking like a very bad liar. Arthur stared at him. "Yes," Merlin admitted, bowing his head. "Er. I'm going to spend the rest of my life in the stables, aren't I?"

Arthur was tempted to say yes, but for the sake of their (currently non-existent) relationship he just laughed and shook his head.

"You're not mad at me?" Merlin asked.

"Why should I be?" Arthur replied. "Maybe you found your true calling. You should join the circus, you're good at making a spectacle of yourself."

Which wasn't really a romantic thing to say, but it was all Merlin's fault for being an idiot.

 

\---

 

"What's that smell?" Gaius asked, looking up from the books he was reading.

Merlin sighed and closed the door behind him. "I think it's me," he said. "Arthur had me muck his stables _again_."

"What did you do this time?" Gaius asked, sounding torn between sympathy and amusement.

"I was just a few minutes late," Merlin said defensively. He walked up to the basin and splashed some water on his face. "But Arthur was being insufferable today, even more so than usual."

He pushed a strand of wet hair away from his eyes, then frowned and turned to Gaius. "And he asked me about Gwen."

"Gwen?" Gaius repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"I thought he'd given up on her months ago," Merlin said. "But maybe he's still in love with her. I felt as if there was something Arthur wasn't telling me."

Gaius gave him a stern look. "Merlin," he said quietly. "If the prince doesn't want to say anything, it's not your place to pry..."

"But it is my business if Arthur is in a foul mood because the girl he loves doesn't love him back," Merlin said. "I'm the one he likes to bully around as a stress relief."

"Then I suggest you call it an early night," Gaius said. "Get some sleep. Arthur will be less likely to punish you for lateness if for once you arrive in time next morning."

"Not you too!" Merlin exclaimed. "It's bad enough to have Arthur treating me as if I'm Camelot's worst manservant. I'm not that useless."

Gaius pretended to think about it. "Well, you did oversleep today, and the day before..."

Merlin laughed. "That's true," he admitted. "But I'm sure I'm at least second-worst. There had to be someone worse than me."

Gaius smiled at him. "I'll make sure you wake up earlier tomorrow morning."

"Thanks Gaius. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Gaius said. He turned back to his book.

Merlin closed his bedroom's door and tossed himself on the bed. He was asleep within a minute.

 

\---

 

Arthur didn't sleep well. He regretted not asking Merlin for one of Gaius's potions to help with the pain in his shoulder. A couple of times he fell into an uneasy slumber, only to wake up as soon as he tried to turn in his sleep.

He spent the night staring at the darkness around his bed and thinking about his last conversation with Merlin. It hadn't been so bad that he wished to erase it from his memory, but it hadn't been too great either. Mocking Merlin might not have been very conductive to romance.

It was difficult for Arthur to admit that he might, possibly, under some circumstances, be anything less than perfect (maybe), but in this case he could really use some outside help with romancing Merlin.

The first rays of sunlight were coming in through the windows when he got out of bed, hit by a sudden idea. He got dressed quickly, trying to move his shoulder as little as he could and thinking he should definitely go and see Gaius. But that could wait, now he had something much more urgent to do.

He opened the door and almost bumped into Merlin.

"Sire," he said, looking just as confused as Arthur felt.

"What are you doing standing here?" Arthur asked, cursing inwardly. "It's barely past sunrise." Out of all days, why did Merlin have to choose today to show up this early?

On one hand, it was great to have Merlin here. Arthur liked having Merlin around, idiot as he was. On the other, this was a complete catastrophe because it meant that he couldn't execute his master plan. There was no way Arthur could tell Merlin that he was going to research how to woo him.

Merlin tried unsuccessfully to hide a huge yawn behind his hand. "I was trying not to be late," he replied. "You're already dressed," he added (rather unnecessarily). "So, er, do you want some food?"

"Sure," Arthur said brightening up. He wasn't hungry, but anything that would get Merlin out of the way. "Go get me something from the kitchens."

Merlin grinned. "I've already got your breakfast here," he said, gesturing to the table behind him. Arthur saw a large tray covered with a white cloth, and this would have been great on any other day but why had Merlin become competent _today_?

He wrinkled his nose. "I don't want cold food," he said. "Get me some eggs and bacon."

Merlin's smile faltered a bit. "But Arthur, you always eat the same things for breakfast, " he pointed out. It was a perfectly reasonable objection, but Arthur crossed his arms and stared at him until Merlin sighed and turned to pick up the tray.

"Take your time, I'm not in a hurry," Arthur said, but instead of walking away Merlin turned back.

"I just remembered, today I brought eggs and bacon too," he said with a grin, holding up the tray.

Arthur pulled a face. "But I never ask for eggs and bacon!" he exclaimed. "And by now they'll be cold anyway."

"No, I kept them covered and they're still nice and warm," Merlin said, removing the cloth with a theatrical flourish.

Or at least it was a theatrical flourish in his mind. This being Merlin, he accidentally dropped a piece of bacon on the floor in the process. Arthur didn't make any snide remarks about this because he was too busy staring at the food in the tray. It looked delicious and was still steaming.

"I'll get you served before it goes cold for real," Merlin said, nodding towards the door of Arthur's room.

Arthur sighed. "That's great," he said. He didn't mean to sound quite so whiny or ungrateful, but Merlin really had no sense of timing at all.

"Anything wrong?" Merlin asked.

 _'Yes'_ , Arthur thought, _'and it's all your fault,_ you _made me fall for you even though you're an idiot and now you're also being a good servant and getting in my way.'_

"No," he lied.

Merlin frowned and leaned forward with his usual disregard for etiquette to give him a closer look. "Are you sure? You seem a bit pale."

"I didn't sleep well, that's all," Arthur said massaging his temples. "I took a blow to the shoulder yesterday during practice, it kept me up all night."

"Does it still pain you?" Merlin asked, concern written all over his face. Arthur nodded.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Why didn't you said so earlier?" he said, then dropped the tray unceremoniously on the table. "I'll go and ask Gaius to give you a potion or something."

"Thanks, Merlin," Arthur said with a grateful smile.

Merlin smiled back. "I'll be as quick as I can," he said before running off.

Arthur watched him disappear behind the corner and waited a few seconds to check that he wasn't coming back before heading in the opposite direction.

The library wasn't too far from Arthur's chambers and he managed to reach it without meeting anyone. However, he hadn't planned on Geoffrey being up and about at such an early hour.

"Prince Arthur," the old scholar said, rising from his chair to bow. "How may I help you?"

He looked surprised, and rightly so: it had been years since the last time Arthur had been in there.

Arthur tried to look nonchalant as he strolled between the shelves. "I'm, er, looking for a book," he said.

Geoffrey nodded and looked at him expectantly. Arthur desperately tried to think of something to tell him, but with no avail. "Which book?" Geoffrey asked.

"Well, I'm... I'm not sure exactly," Arthur replied. He glanced at the nearest tome, an old leather-bound thing without a title. This wasn't what he'd planned _at all_.

His idea had been to get into the library while it was empty, find the book he was looking for and get out without anyone ever knowing he'd been there. Now he was starting to see the flaws in this. For example, he doubted he'd be able to find a book titled _'How To Woo Your Manservant'_.

"Could you give me a description of this book?" Geoffrey asked. "Is it a book about combat?"

"No, not combat," Arthur replied, shaking his head. There were many rolled-up scrolls along with the books. Arthur wondered if there was some way of finding out about their content without having to unroll them one by one. "More about... knights," he ventured.

Geoffrey's brows furrowed. "Something like a history of the knights of Camelot? Or perhaps a genealogy?"

Arthur had no doubt that the man knew all the books in the library and would have been able to help him, but there was no way he could ever admit _he_ was looking for a book about...

"It's not for me," Arthur said suddenly. "It's for Morgana, she asked me to get her a book." He complimented himself for the brilliant idea that would save him from embarrassment. "She asked for something about romance. A book, er, with knights falling in love with someone and trying to woo them. Or something like that."

All right, save him from most of the embarrassment. Arthur felt his face burning up and he looked at Geoffrey anxiously, trying to figure if his lie had worked. "It's not a book _I'd_ read," he insisted. "I'm just getting it for Morgana."

Geoffrey nodded, stroking his chin. "There are several such books in this library," he said. "Do you have any preference on the author?"

" _Morgana_ didn't say anything about that," Arthur replied with emphasis. "Any of them will do."

Geoffrey, still nodding to himself, got up from his desk and disappeared behind one of the shelves.

"It's not often that this book is brought out," he said. Arthur heard the sound of rustling paper and books being shuffled. "I think it's a pity, the story is famous and the miniatures of this version are exquisite. But of course the King wouldn't have anything to do with it."

Arthur laughed. "Yes, I can't see my father ever reading a romantic story."

"On the contrary," Geoffrey's voice came from behind the shelf. "He was quite fond of this book. It was originally a present from him to the Lady Ygraine."

Arthur's eyes went wide. His father never talked about his mother, never even mentioned her. Arthur knew that he'd loved her dearly, but she'd died young and her father still mourned her. That was all Arthur knew about them, and it was strange to hear Geoffrey mention it so casually, to think of his father getting a present for his wife.

He was still surprised by this revelation when Geoffrey reappeared carrying a slim volume reverently in his hands. "Here it is, sire," he said handing it over.

Arthur took the book carefully, tracing the letters embossed on the cover. This had been his mother's.

"I hope the Lady Morgana will enjoy it," Geoffrey said, bringing Arthur brusquely back to reality. He had to get back to his chambers before Merlin returned from Gaius's. "It's the tale of the White Knight who fell in love with the daughter of..."

"Yes, I'm sure she'll like it," Arthur said quickly, hurrying out of the library.

Geoffrey gave him one last sweeping bow before returning to his work.

It would have been too much to hope that Merlin hadn't got back yet. Today Merlin seemed set on acting like a perfect servant, which to Arthur meant that he was being a bloody nuisance. He couldn't even yell at Merlin for being too good at his job. (All right, he could, but courtship-wise it would be a poor move.)

"There you are," Merlin exclaimed. "Where did you run off to?"

"Nowhere," Arthur lied, hiding the book behind his back. "I went for a walk. You were taking too long, I got bored."

Merlin made a face. "I was gone for a few minutes only, I was as fast as I could," he complained.

"You're still slow," Arthur insisted in his best _'because I say so'_ tone. "Did you get the potion?" he added before Merlin could answer back.

"Yes, kind of," Merlin replied. Arthur was about to ask what he meant by that when Merlin added, "Take off your shirt," and his brain effectively froze.

Arthur made a strangled sound that could be best be described as, "Ngh?"

He had given quite a lot of thought to Merlin after realizing that he liked him, and a good part of those thoughts involved the removal of Merlin's clothes, or his own, or both. In that regard this was a good development, so much that for a moment Arthur thought he might have been dreaming. (He probably wasn't, not unless this dream was providing him with a very realistic injured shoulder.)

Still, for decency's sake it was better to check that he hadn't misheard Merlin's words _before_ jumping him. Arthur really didn't want any misunderstanding in these circumstances.

"Shirt?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes," Merlin confirmed. "Gaius would have come himself, but he was busy and anyway he said that not even I can mess this up."

Which wasn't exactly what Arthur had been expecting, and he thought he didn't want to have to think of his sex life and Gaius at the same time ever again.

"Gaius?" Arthur repeated. He had the faint suspicion that he was turning into a parrot but Merlin wasn't making any sense at all.

"He gave me this salve," Merlin explained, holding up a jar fill of what Arthur thought was greenish mud. "He told me to put it on your shoulder, it'll heal better than with a potion."

"Oh," Arthur said, crestfallen, and since there didn't seem to be anything else to say he took off the shirt and tossed it into a cupboard along with the book.

He had to admit (to himself, not to Merlin) that it was nice to sit back and have Merlin spread the salve on his shoulder. Merlin's fingers were nice and cool, more delicate than he would have given him credit for.

This didn't stop Arthur from being enormously disappointed at the fact that Merlin was still fully clothed.

"Better now?" Merlin asked and Arthur nodded reluctantly.

"You've got some mud on your cheek," he told Merlin. Before the other could wipe it away he reached out and smeared it across Merlin's face with a smirk.

Merlin glared at him. "It's a salve, not mud," he said, rubbing his face with his sleeve.

"Same difference," Arthur replied. "Pass me my shirt."

"Sure, where did you put it?" Merlin asked, looking around.

Arthur remembered just in time that he had the book hidden under the shirt. (He'd have to do something about these distracting thoughts of Merlin.)

"On second thought," he said, rushing to claim the shirt and push the book further back into the cupboard, "I'm still feeling poorly. I think I'll go back to sleep. Thanks for the salve," he added awkwardly.

Merlin nodded. "You're welcome. I'll be outside if you need me," he said.

Arthur didn't really fancy the idea of Merlin being outside his door at all times, ready to burst in at the most inopportune moment ever. "This shirt needs washing," he said, tossing it to him.

"But it's clean, I've just washed it yesterday," Merlin pointed out, turning the shirt around.

"No, it's not," Arthur replied. "There's, er, there's mud on it."

"All right," Merlin said. "It shouldn't take me long."

"Actually," Arthur said, "the rest of my shirts need washing too."

Merlin pulled a face. "What, all of them?" he asked.

Arthur thought about it. "Pretty much, yes."

Once Merlin had left, carrying with him the better part of Arthur's wardrobe, Arthur took the book out of the cupboard and sat down at the table.

He'd never read a love story before so he didn't have any basis for comparison, but it seemed to Arthur that the characters were all downright stupid.

The hero was a knight who fell in love with a mysterious lady in a forest and decided to abandon everything to become her champion. Arthur thought he'd have a few choice words for any of his knights who tried to ditch their prince and their kingdom to follow a strange lady into a forest.

That aside, the lady herself wasn't much better. She was a real nightmare at first, poking fun at the knight and telling him to leave her alone, but she immediately changed her mind as soon as he wrote her a poem praising her beauty. To be honest she seemed quite vain to Arthur. The book went to great lengths to describe her beauty but never said anything about intelligence.

On the whole, the story was a disappointment. Maybe it was good for those who liked that kind of tales, with rhymes and poetry, but for Arthur it was about as useful as... well, as something not useful at all.

To begin with, Arthur had no intention at all of writing a poem praising Merlin's beauty. He was bad already with prose, and anyway what was there to praise? Merlin wasn't all that good-looking. Yes, Arthur wouldn't have minded to see him shirtless, but that didn't mean anything.

Arthur tried to think of what to write. _'Dear Merlin, your ears are huge and you're way too tall and lanky. I don't think you're completely ugly. Fancy a snog? Love, Arthur.'_ It didn't rhyme, but Arthur doubted that was the problem here.

It sounded ridiculous even in his mind. The rest of the book was similarly unhelpful. The mysterious lady was happy to swoon over her knight, who in turn spouted more poetry. Arthur gave up halfway through and just flipped through the pages looking at the illustrations.

 

\---

 

Lunch with Uther was never very entertaining, but today the King was being particularly sullen, spending all the meal in silence and occasionally glancing at the papers piled up next to his plate.

"You could at least put those away while you're eating, you'll ruin your digestion," Morgana said after Uther actually put down his fork, asked for a pen and started scribbling something on the margins of a piece of parchment.

"She's right, father," Arthur added. "You don't need to worry, my men have it all under control."

Uther looked up and glared at him. "Midsummer's night is sacred to the old religion," he said, "and sorcerers believe that it makes their magic stronger."

Morgana rolled her eyes. Arthur knew this speech by heart, having already listened to it several times in the past few weeks. "I know, father," he said as patiently as he could. "I have posted extra guards at the gates and told them to be careful with who they let through, and the patrols will be doubled tonight..."

Uther nodded his approval. "Yes, we must be extremely careful," he said. "We can't let any of those who practice magic inside the city. Excuse me," he added getting up, "I need to speak with the guards that will be on duty tonight."

"Aren't you going to finish...?" Arthur said, but Uther had already left. He shrugged and gestured for a servant to clear away his father's plate.

Morgana sighed and relaxed in her seat. "He always gets so worked up about these things," she said.

Arthur turned back to his roast pork. "You know he's like this," he said between bites. "Father's just trying to keep order."

"Yes, I know what he's doing," Morgana replied.

Arthur was surprised at the bitter tone. "Are you angry at something?" he asked.

"Why would I?" Morgana asked back, viciously stabbing a piece of potato as if she had a personal grudge against it.

"Morgana, you can tell me," Arthur said, barely suppressing a smile. He had a good idea of what this could be about.

"It's nothing, really," she said without looking up.

"Come on, Morgana!" Arthur teased. "You're terrible at keeping secrets."

"Which secret would this be?" she asked.

Arthur smiled knowingly. "I think you're angry because Uther has forbidden you to leave the castle tonight," he said. "Were you looking forward to the festival this much?"

Morgana gave a small laugh. "Yes, that's it," she said. "You read me like an open book. Oh, this reminds me of something!"

She leaned forward and _smirked_. Arthur's smile died on his face. Nothing good ever happened when Morgana smirked.

"It was very nice of you to borrow that book for me," she said.

"Morgana, I have no idea what you're talking about," Arthur replied. He took huge gulps from his goblet, mostly to hide his face. Why, why, _why_? He should have known that nothing good ever happened from involving Morgana in anything. It wasn't worth it, especially for the sake of a useless sappy book.

"Pick a better excuse, I know everything," Morgana snorted. "I met Geoffrey this morning and he told me. So, when are you going to give me the book I never asked for?"

She was still smirking in a way that was awfully unladylike, taking full advantage of the fact that they were alone and Arthur had no chance of escape.

"I, er, thought you'd like the read it," he said, carefully avoiding her eyes.

"I'm sure," Morgana smiled. "What was it called? The tale of the white knight and... who else?"

" _'The Ballad of the White Knight and his Fair Lady'_ ," Arthur replied absent-mindedly. Morgana laughed, making Arthur's face flush with embarrassment at the thought he'd actually gone and memorized the bloody title.

"It must be a _fascinating_ read," Morgana said. Arthur stared at the tabletop wondering what the odds were that she'd choke on her wine. Failing that, he could stab her with a fork.

"I don't know, it's not my kind of book," he replied half-honestly. How many other people knew? How long before Morgana told everyone and made him the castle's laughing stock?

"I'm more surprised that you're reading at all," Morgana said. "Don't worry. I know why you're suddenly so interested in romance stories," she added.

The reassurance had the effect of making Arthur's insides squirm uncomfortably. He pushed away his plate. "What?" he said nervously. There was no way Morgana could know about Merlin, not even if she was a witch.

But then again this was Morgana, whose apparent mission in life was to find new ways of tormenting Arthur. "I think it's sweet that you're trying to do something romantic for your... mysterious beloved," she said with something that was suspiciously like a giggle.

Arthur groaned and buried his face in his hands. "You knew?"

"Come on, _everyone_ in the castle knows!" Morgana exclaimed. "I think your father suspects something too..."

Arthur made a strangled noise. "And he hasn't told me to drop it yet?" he asked incredulously.

Morgana shrugged. "He probably thinks it's just a passing fancy. But knowing you both as I do, I think not."

Arthur didn't want to ask, but since it had come to that he had to know. "Does Merlin know too?"

"Of course he does," Morgana replied laughing. Arthur's heart skipped a beat. "I thought the two of you had talked about it."

Arthur shook his head. "I just... I don't know _how_ to tell him," he confessed.

"Just tell him, how difficult can that be?" Morgana said in a matter-of-fact tone. "More importantly, how are you going to win her back?"

"I don't know," Arthur said, then he realized what Morgana had said and frowned. "Sorry, what do you mean?" he asked.

"Gwen has been pining for weeks, poor thing," Morgana said, ignoring his confused expression. "It's about time you did something about it!"

Arthur laughed nervously at the misunderstanding. "It's not me she's pining after," he said. He was about to explain about Lancelot when he stopped, thinking that if Gwen had kept him a secret it would be rude to tell Morgana.

Morgana didn't seem inclined to listen to Arthur. "I know that she's been pining after someone, and I know _you_ 've been pining after someone," she said with a smug smile. "I warn you, I won't forgive you if you break my maidservant's heart."

"All right, it's just as you said," Arthur said. If Morgana wanted to tease him, this was much better than telling her that he fancied Merlin. "Since you know everything, what do you think I should do?"

Morgana leaned forward conspiratorially. "What about getting her a present?" she suggested.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Is this the best you can come up with?" he said. "It was the first thing I thought of."

"And?" Morgana asked. "Did you get Gwen something?"

"No," Arthur admitted. "I couldn't think of anything that, er, Gwen might like."

"You're lucky you can count on me," Morgana smiled. "I know her better than anyone else."

Arthur didn't comment on that.

"Which kind of present would you suggest?" he asked instead. "I was thinking about flowers, but..."

"Flowers are too common," Morgana said dismissively. "Everyone always gets flowers. I always get flowers. They're nice, but they don't mean much."

"Well, this isn't about _you_ ," Arthur retorted.

"I'm not saying Gwen wouldn't like flowers," she said. "But if you want to make an impression, you've got to get her something else. Something special."

"Like what?" Arthur asked, interested despite himself.

"A nice dress," Morgana suggested and Arthur had to suppress a groan. This wouldn't be of any use to him. "Or maybe a piece of jewellery. Something in violet, perhaps, she likes the colour," Morgana added.

"Thank you for your help," he said. He pushed back his chair and got to his feet. "I've got to go, I'm very busy today."

"Like father, like son," Morgana murmured. "Will you at least keep my suggestion in mind?"

"Yes, of course," Arthur lied. "I'll, er, let you know how it goes."

He wasn't particularly thrilled about making Morgana his confidant, but it was better than keeping her in the dark and having her spy on him.

She waved him goodbye with a smug, self-satisfied grin, and Arthur felt certain that Camelot's gossip mill would soon start working. But he was glad he'd talked to her.

Giving Merlin a dress was out of question. Arthur sincerely hoped that the one time when he'd caught Merlin with a dress was just an accident. There probably was some explanation for that. It wasn't as if he honestly believed that Merlin wore woman's dresses in his spare time, not really, it was just something he'd said to wind Merlin up.

At least he hoped that was the case, because the alternative was disturbing. Or so he thought until he tried to picture Merlin in a dress, at that point he started having entirely inappropriate thoughts and had to rush back to his room and splash some cold water on his face while thinking of anything but Merlin's collarbone.

A dress was _definitely_ out of question. Still, Morgana had a point, and Arthur only needed to think of something that would be special to Merlin. He felt confident he'd be able to think of something since he knew Merlin just as well as Morgana knew Gwen. Or so he thought, until with a pang of guilt he remembered about Gwen and Lancelot.

If Morgana was a decent person (which she totally wasn't, not with the way she'd enjoyed Arthur's discomfort about their conversation) then Arthur might have felt sad for her. She thought she knew Gwen so well but Gwen hadn't even told her about Lancelot.

Arthur wondered if Merlin kept any secrets from him. Not stupid things like skipping work or stealing Arthur's food, it was easy enough to get Merlin to blurt those out. Did Merlin have someone he like? And if he did, would he tell Arthur about it?

Sometimes Arthur forgot that Merlin was his servant and not his friend. This was Merlin's fault, since he was the one who kept ignoring the protocol and talking out of line, but he was so good at forgetting his own place that he made Arthur forget too. And now Arthur had gone and fallen for him, which only made everything more complicated than it was already.

This aside, Arthur was sure he knew Merlin quite well, maybe just not as well as he thought. Granted, Merlin rarely talked about himself. But the two of them did talk a lot. Most times it was just Arthur hurling abuse at Merlin who replied in kind. But they still spent a lot of time together. Arthur would be able to think of the best present ever before the day was over.

 

\---

 

"If you could have anything at all, what would you ask for?" Arthur said.

Merlin, his arms full of Arthur's clean laundry, raised an eyebrow in his best imitation of Gaius and thought about it.

"Some help with this would be appreciated," he suggested, holding up the load in his arms. Not that he really expected Arthur to actually get up from his chair and help folding his own shirts and socks.

Predictably, Arthur just pulled a face. "It was a serious question, Merlin," he said, sounding annoyed as if Merlin was not only being inexcusably dim, but was doing so on purpose.

"Mine was a serious answer too!" Merlin complained, setting down the laundry on the table with perhaps more force than what was strictly necessary. One of the shirts on top of the pile slid off and fell on the floor. Arthur rolled his eyes.

Merlin bent down to pick it up and tried to brush it surreptitiously, hoping it hadn't got dirty. It was very delicate linen and he'd hate to have to wash the cursed thing once more. "You just don't realize how much work I have," he told Arthur.

"So if you could have anything you wanted, you'd ask to... quit your work?" Arthur asked. "Stop being a servant?"

He seemed oddly serious about it, which made Merlin pause for a moment. Arthur had been acting strange in the last couple of days, first forgiving Merlin for slacking off while on the job, then actually saying 'thank you' twice in the same day. And now this question.

It was almost as if Arthur was trying to be nice, which was a worrisome idea because it meant that Arthur was about to ask Merlin to do him some big favour. Probably something that involved lying to Uther or risking his neck or both.

"I didn't say I wanted to quit," Merlin said carefully. "Wouldn't want to be out of a job."

Alternatively, Arthur might have been enchanted. Merlin wouldn't have been averse to some spell that could make the prince less obnoxious than he was. Maybe there was something in Gaius's salve.

"Good, I wouldn't want to be out of a servant either," Arthur grinned. "Even one as lousy as you. Can't you fold that properly?"

Merlin sighed and smoothed some of the creases in the linen shirt. Definitely not enchanted to be nice, then. So much for trying to be a good servant.

"You still haven't answered my question," Arthur insisted.

Merlin chased away the first idea that came to his mind (asking for Arthur to be less of a prat) and thought about it. He had a good idea of what he'd wish for, but there was no way Merlin could mention lifting Camelot's ban on magic without Arthur starting to ask questions.

Telling Arthur about his destiny and the magic without Arthur freaking out and arresting him was very high on Merlin's wish list too, but it was better to put that off for the time being. Especially since Merlin still hadn't figured out if Arthur was angry at him or not.

Arthur tapped his fingers on the table impatiently. "Come on, Merlin, it can't be that difficult to think of something you wish for!"

On the other hand, thinking of something that wouldn't get him executed was almost impossible. Merlin settled for the first thing that came to his mind. "Then I suppose I'd ask for the evening off," he ventured.

"Really?" Arthur asked, surprised. "You could have anything, and all you can think of is slacking off?"

He sounded more amused than annoyed, or so Merlin hoped. "Today's Midsummer," Merlin said by way of an explanation.

"Yes, I know," Arthur snorted. "Some kind of pagan festival. I was busy all week, I had to change all of the patrol schedules."

"There's going to be a spectacle in the lower town," Merlin went on, "and everyone will be out in the streets..."

A sudden attack of wisdom stopped him before he mentioned that he wouldn't be able to join the celebrations because he had to attend to the needs of a certain spoiled prince.

Arthur looked at him and frowned. "You want to go?" he asked. Merlin nodded eagerly. He very much wanted to and envied Gwen who didn't even have to ask Morgana to get Midsummer's night off. Merlin hadn't even tried asking Arthur, assuming that if he asked Arthur he'd just be told that idiots didn't get time off or something along those lines.

"Sure, you can go," Arthur said, immediately rising quite a lot in Merlin's rankings of favourite people.

"Thanks, Arthur," he said grinning wildly, the pile of clothes in front of him completely forgotten. He couldn't wait to tell Gwen.

"I'll come too," Arthur added. Merlin's smile froze on his face. No, Arthur was definitely a prat. He was reaching new levels of prattishness. He was going to great lengths to find out what Merlin wanted and then ruin it for him. That was nasty, even for Arthur.

Merlin blinked. "But, er, it's just a commoners' festival," he said without much hope. "It'll be boring."

"Can't be that boring," Arthur replied with a smug smile. "You want to go. You wouldn't want to see something boring."

"I like boring," Merlin said. "Boring is so much better than dangerous. Or scary. Or deadly. Or anything I get while you're around. It's nothing to laugh about!" he added. Maybe it was funny for Arthur to fight monsters, he was the one with the shiny sword and more brawns than brains, but _Merlin_ was the one who had to save him all the time when he got into trouble.

Arthur, infuriatingly, didn't stop laughing. "What's the problem? You wanted to go, we can both go."

"I've changed my mind," Merlin said quickly. "I don't think I want to go to the festival after all."

"Too late, I already made up my mind," Arthur said with a grin. "We're going. Make sure my red jacket is clean."

Merlin gestured to Arthur's clothes. "But I've just washed about half of your wardrobe today!" he pointed out.

"Good, you can wash the other half before tonight," Arthur replied.

Merlin groaned. This was going to be the worst night ever.

 

\---

 

The night was going great and Arthur was feeling very pleased with himself. Asking Merlin on a date had been a wonderful idea.

All right, if he had to be completely honest with himself, this wasn't technically a date. There hadn't been any hand-holding or romanticisms or snogging. Arthur particularly bemoaned the lack of snogging. And he hadn't exactly asked Merlin out either since he'd had to go and ask him what he wanted, which wasn't very subtle.

But they were spending the evening together, sitting side by side right in front of the wooden stage that had been rigged up in one of Camelot's largest squares, and that was good enough for Arthur. The benches were crammed full of spectators but Arthur didn't mind. He pulled the hood of the cloak over his eyes and inched closer to Merlin.

"Is everything okay?" Merlin asked nervously. "Maybe we can get better seats. If you tell them you're the prince you can probably get some chairs, or..."

"This is fine," Arthur replied, wondering if he could get away with slinging his arm around Merlin's shoulders. Nobody would recognize him and they were already very close anyway, their knees pressed together, Merlin's elbow digging (somewhat uncomfortably) into Arthur's rib.

Merlin's arms were awfully bony. Did Gaius ever feed him?

"This man is really great, isn't it?" Merlin said, pointing.

Arthur turned his attention away from Merlin, who looked almost handsome when he smiled like that, and back to the stage. He hadn't really been paying attention to the antics of the jugglers and jesters, having seen more than enough of those during the endless banquets held for his father's guests.

At the moment the stage was occupied by some guy in flowing robes who was juggling three lit torches. At his call, a boy came forward with another torch and tossed it upwards. The man caught it easily and started juggling four torches without missing a step.

The crowd cheered wildly, Merlin clapping and hooting along with the rest of them.

"Is this all?" Arthur said with disdain. "Anyone could do that."

"No, you couldn't," Merlin replied. "Not unless you trained for it."

Maybe he had a point, but Arthur had no intention of agreeing with him, not while Merlin's eyes were so obviously glued to this stranger.

The man was good-looking, in a scruffy sort of way, but he was just a penniless travelling juggler! He had no business stealing Merlin's attention like this. "I don't see what's so great about him," Arthur muttered.

Merlin glanced at him but immediately turned his attention back to the stage when the juggler called for another torch.

"He's unbelievable," Merlin said.

What Arthur couldn't believe was that Merlin would get so worked up over some stupid street artist. So much for his date. Arthur hoped the man caught fire.

His wish backfired spectacularly when the juggler's boy misjudged his aim on the next throw. The torch flew past the juggler's outstretched fingers and right towards Arthur.

Arthur watched the torch's trajectory in dumb stupor. There were only a few feet between him and the stage, it would hit him in a few seconds and there was no way to dodge. He was pressed between Merlin and another stranger, he couldn't move in any direction except in front, and there was that torch in front of him and it was just inches from his face now...

Then Merlin grabbed his arm and pulled him away. They both fell backwards, stumbling over the people who were sitting behind them. Arthur's brain took a moment to process the fact that he was still alive, not on fire or concussed by a large lump of wood, and he'd have celebrated if he didn't feel so beaten up. His freshly-healed shoulder didn't particularly approve of the treatment.

His enthusiasm at being tangled with Merlin on the flagstones was also somewhat dampened by the fact that several other people were tangled with them.

"Worst... night ever," Merlin said breathing heavily, voicing Arthur's thoughts.

He didn't seem to be hurt, at least, which was more than Arthur could say for himself. He massaged his shoulder gingerly. Nothing broken, at least, though by morning he'd be sporting another fine collection of bruises. The only good thing that could come out of this would have been Merlin and his salve, but Merlin didn't seem particularly concerned with Arthur's well-being at the moment.

"Did you see the juggler?" Merlin asked urgently. "Did you see what he did?"

"Merlin," he replied pushing himself to his feet, "are you really so obsessed with that man?"

The torch had missed them by mere inches and had thankfully gone out. It would have been a nightmare if the wooden benches had caught fire.

"No, I mean..." Merlin began but was interrupted by the arrival of the juggler and his assistant. They were both very pale, and the boy was crying uncontrollably. At least someone seemed to care that he'd almost been killed.

"I don't know how it could have happened," the boy sobbed.

The juggler gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before bowing his head to Arthur. "I'm terribly sorry, sire," he said. "You're not injured, I hope?"

Arthur pushed back the hood of his cloak and shook his head graciously, as much as his shoulder allowed him to. "No harm done," he said.

There were a few gasps of surprise around him. So much for going incognito, but it couldn't be helped. He'd have to call the guards and make sure that they maintained order in the square, and also talk with these performers to make sure that the rest of the spectacle wouldn't be dangerous for the viewers.

"It would have been so dreadful if anything were to happen to the crown prince while we're here under your father's benevolent protection," the juggler said with a tight smile. "My name is Lantis, sire. I was born here in Camelot, it's such an honour for me to meet you in person..."

Arthur nodded absent-mindedly and gestured to a couple of guards.

"Arthur, didn't you notice anything strange?" Merlin asked.

"Not now," Arthur sighed. "I'm busy, whatever it is I'm sure it can wait until I've sorted this out."

It wasn't as if he was happy to cut short their date that was not a date, but he had a duty to make sure that the citizens of Camelot were safe.

He was sure Merlin would understand, until Merlin exclaimed, "I've got to go!" and ran off towards the castle.

Arthur pulled a face, turned away from yet another of Lantis's oily bows and started ordering people around.

It didn't take him long to restore order. Nobody had been injured, and soon the benches that had been upturned during the commotion were put back in their place. The juggler's show had been cut abruptly short but nobody seemed eager for him to start from where he left off, so a trio of singers took the stage and started to sing an old ballad.

They were good but Arthur had no reason to stay if Merlin wasn't around. He excused himself from Lantis and his friends, assured them once more that he was perfectly fine thank you, refused their offer of a cup of wine, and made his way back to the castle.

Merlin wasn't waiting for him in his chambers, not that Arthur expected him to. Maybe he'd gone back home. Or maybe he'd sneaked off to meet someone else. He had been in such a hurry to get away...

Arthur paced up and down his room restlessly. This kind of thoughts wouldn't help him at all. If he didn't want Merlin to run away with tall dark strangers he'd have to do something about it and he'd have to do it now.

He retrieved his mother's book from the drawer where he'd hidden it and thumbed through it, considering his options. On one hand he had his dignity, on the other Merlin. His dignity was important, his father had spent twenty years teaching him that a prince must always be proud and set an example for his men.

But Merlin was, well, _Merlin_ , and Arthur thought that he'd have happily torched Camelot himself if it gave him a chance with Merlin. There wasn't really a choice here.

Half an hour later he was under Merlin's window armed only with determination and a lute. He plucked nervously at the strings, drawing a sound that was maybe music and maybe like a wailing cat.

Arthur had been taught how to play, years ago, on the grounds that all noblemen needed to know the basics of music. He hadn't been very good at it (something that Morgana loved to comment upon) and his lessons had stopped quickly.

Now he wished he had kept practising. He hadn't been playing in ages and his fingers were awkward on the strings, not to mention that his shoulder ached as he tried to hold the lute properly. Still, Arthur was confident that he'd be able to play one of the easier songs. At least if he didn't have to sing. Arthur grimaced.

He'd probably have to sing, wouldn't he? Arthur wasn't an expert, but he was afraid it might not count as a serenade if he didn't sing. Besides if he didn't sing Merlin wouldn't know that it was him. He tried the same chords again experimentally, decided that the resulting note was passable and launched into the first stanza.

It was a sappy love song that he'd heard several times from minstrels, usually dedicated 'to the beautiful ladies of the court', which meant Morgana. She seemed to like it (or maybe she just enjoyed the attention) which probably meant that it was good. It wasn't as if Arthur was an expert of love songs.

He wished he'd paid more attention when the song was played in court, since he didn't know some of the words and had to make them up as he went along or replace them with 'la la la's. Hopefully Merlin wouldn't notice the difference.

Arthur was halfway through the refrain and was getting really into it when the window opened. He grinned happily, looked up and dropped the lute on his feet.

"Sire?" Gaius exclaimed. "What's going on?"

Arthur gulped, finding himself suddenly unable to speak. "Er," he said.

His brain informed him that his life was over. He was never going to live this down. It would be better if he picked up a sword and killed himself here and now to avoid any further embarrassment, and the only thing that stopped him was that he hadn't brought his sword, only the accursed lute. Maybe he could strangle himself with one of the strings.

"Sire, it's very late," Gaius said. There was a long and awkward pause in which Arthur elected to stay completely silent. He couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't make the situation much, much worse than it already was. "Do you think that maybe you could keep the noise down?" Gaius ventured.

"I was, er," Arthur said. He cleared his throat. "I was hoping to talk with Merlin?"

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Merlin isn't here," he replied.

Arthur's face fell, if possible, even more. Merlin hadn't even heard his heartfelt and romantic serenade. "But he left the festival before me, I thought he'd gone back to his room," he whined.

"Yes, he got back some time ago," Gaius said. "But he went out again shortly after and he hasn't returned yet."

"Did he say where he'd go?" Arthur asked. This couldn't be, Merlin couldn't really have gone back to that man, Lantis. Except that Arthur couldn't think of anywhere else Merlin could be.

Gaius hesitated. "He didn't say, sire," he said eventually. "I thought he'd be with you."

Arthur nodded, dejected. This confirmed all of his worst fears. Gaius was still at the window so Arthur said, "I see, thank you," and the old physician retreated, not before giving him a very puzzled look.

He ran rather than walked back to the lower town, following the noise back to the square that had been the set of his first failure of a date. There were two guards on duty at the corner of the square. They both stood to attention as they saw Arthur approach, pretending that they hadn't been engrossed by whatever was happening on the stage.

Luckily for them, at the moment Arthur wasn't in the mood to tell them off. "Have you seen my servant?" he asked.

"He was with you earlier this evening, sire," one of the guards replied, unhelpfully, and Arthur glared at him thinking that maybe he could tell those two off later. _After_ he found Merlin.

"I think I saw him enter the Rising Sun some time ago," the other guard ventured.

Arthur gave him a curt nod and hurried towards the tavern. "Don't let me catch you slacking off again!" he called over his shoulder.

Despite the crowd pressed in front of the stage outside, the Rising Sun was still doing a roaring business on Midsummer's Night. The tables were full of the usual patrons and the performers, highly recognizable from their flamboyant outfits, all of them getting a cup of ale and talking about the festival.

The innkeeper noticed Arthur immediately and ran forward, wiping his hands on his apron. "Sire," he said. "How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for my servant, Merlin," Arthur replied. "Is he here?"

"Why, yes, he arrived maybe half an hour ago," the innkeeper said. "He's upstairs," he added with a grin and a nod, seeing Arthur looking around the room.

"Upstairs?" Arthur repeated, frowning. There wasn't anything upstairs, except... "Did he take a room?"

The innkeeper laughed. "Oh, bless you sire, we're all full. Couldn't find a room tonight even if it was for the King! No offence meant, sire," he added hastily. "No, he asked after one of the men staying here."

"One of the street artists? A juggler?" Arthur asked, hoping to be proven wrong, but then again this wasn't his lucky night.

The innkeeper nodded. "Tall, lanky fellow," he said. "Name of Lantis." Arthur swore. The innkeeper smile died on his face. "Merlin, he said he needed to talk to this man," he added, almost apologetically. "So I gave him the key to the room and told him he could wait there."

"Which room?" Arthur asked.

The innkeeper looked pained. "He told me he was working for you, did I do something wrong?" he asked.

Arthur wasn't in the mood for being likeable. Arthur was in the mood for breaking someone's nose. Possibly the nose of a certain interfering juggler. "Which. Room?"

"Second door on the right," the man said. "Why, what's going on?"

Arthur ignored him and rushed up the stairs, pushing away a couple of patrons blocking his way. Upstairs the tavern was quiet, the noise from the festival muffled by the thick panelled walls. Arthur banged open the door to Lantis's room without even bothering to knock.

The room was small, just a bed and a stool and an old battered travelling chest. Lantis wasn't back yet, but there was Merlin there sitting on the stool and gaping at Arthur, and that was more than enough to make Arthur explode.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, slamming the door closed and pointing an accusatory finger at Merlin. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Arthur," Merlin said, "I can explain."

"Explain _what_?" Arthur replied. "You walked out on me while..."

 _'While we were on something that wasn't a date but might as well have been'_ , his brain supplied. Not helpful, Arthur thought, probably best not to tell that to Merlin yet.

"You walked out on me," he insisted. "And then you ran back here and I find you in this man's room. _Why_?"

For once Merlin didn't have a smart-ass reply ready. He shook his head. "Lantis..." he began, but Arthur wasn't in the mood to hear about Lantis.

"Is he all you can talk about?" he yelled.

Merlin's eyes went wide. "What's wrong with you today?" he asked.

"What's wrong with me?" Arthur shot back. "What's wrong with _you_! I thought we had a chance."

"What?" Merlin replied. "You're not making any sense at all."

"This is all your fault," Arthur said. However he didn't have a chance to elaborate on how everything was Merlin's fault because the door opened again and a very perplexed Lantis popped his head in.

"What's going on? I think you have the wrong room," he said, looking around. "Sire," he added seeing Arthur.

"It's nothing," Arthur snapped. "We were just leaving. Come on, Merlin."

He grabbed Merlin's arm and started to drag him towards the stairs.

"Arthur, wait, listen to me," Merlin said, trying to hold him back.

"I'm not listening to any of your excuses," Arthur replied.

"He's a sorcerer," Merlin hissed. "And he tried to kill you!"

Arthur stopped abruptly and looked at Merlin, who seemed very close to panic, and then back at Lantis. Just in time to see the man whisper some words and send the stool flying at him.

Merlin cannoned into Arthur, pushing him to the floor, and the stool hit the wall right above their heads showering them with splinters.

Arthur jumped back to his feet and went for his sword, remembering a moment too late that he wasn't wearing one.

"Merlin!" he called, but he didn't have time to check how Merlin was doing. Lantis had dropped any pretence and was throwing balls of coloured flames at him.

"Die, Arthur Pendragon!" he screamed.

Arthur jumped down the stairs, doing the steps three at a time. "Guards!" he called. It was dangerous to lead the sorcerer downstairs, the tavern was full of innocent citizens, but to remain in the corridor meant certain death for him and Merlin. "Guards!"

His voice could barely be heard above the noise. The next fireball missed Arthur by inches and hit a window, sending sparks and glass shards everywhere. That got immediate attention from everyone in the room. Then it was chaos as the patrons, sobered up by the danger, all scrambled for the exit.

Arthur dodged another fireball by rolling behind a table and straightened up just in time to see Merlin attack the sorcerer with a chair. Lantis staggered under the hit but didn't fall down. Instead he just raised one hand and Merlin flew against a wall like a rag doll.

Arthur saw red. He flung himself against the sorcerer, not caring that he was fighting with nothing but his bare hands. All he could think about was Merlin, his Merlin, and if anything happened to him it would be Arthur's fault, and Arthur couldn't stand that.

For a moment Arthur thought that he had the upper hand, but then the sorcerer pulled one arm free from his grasp and with a flick of the wrist sent Arthur flying. The impact knocked all of the air from his body.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Lantis said with a smirk. "I had to go into exile because of my magic, but I shouldn't have feared the King. I'm so much stronger than you." He looked down at Arthur. "And now you're going to die."

He raised one hand but before he could complete the spell there was a loud creaking noise. Lantis looked up just in time to see a large wooden shelf fall down on him.

Arthur gaped at the scene, then scrambled to his feet and went to check on Merlin. He was still slumped where Lantis had thrown him, but Arthur sighed with relief when he saw that he was still very much alive.

Arthur offered Merlin his hand. Merlin got to his feet, awkwardly, and brushed some dust off his clothes. That had been a close one. If that shelf hadn't gone down the moment it did...

Merlin winced. "Are you all right?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Merlin replied. He was a terrible liar. Arthur was willing to bet that Merlin felt just as battered as Arthur was. At least he didn't seem to have any serious injuries.

Arthur looked at the wreckage around them. There didn't seem to be any casualties either apart from the sorcerer himself. Arthur was starting to think that maybe his father, with all his paranoia, had a point. Magic was too dangerous to let go unchecked.

"How did you know that he was a sorcerer, anyway?" Arthur asked.

Merlin shrugged. "I just, er, I had a feeling," he said.

"A feeling?" Arthur repeated incredulously. "This man walks past all the guards and stands in front of half of Camelot without anyone realizing anything, and you had a feeling?"

"Earlier tonight, when he threw that torch at you, remember?" Merlin said. Arthur nodded. It would be difficult to forget about that in such a short time. "I saw him use magic to throw the torch at you."

Arthur thought back to the scene. "I didn't notice anything of the sort. How come you're such an expert on magic?"

Merlin looked away. "I told you, it was just a feeling," he said with a frown.

Arthur very carefully refrained to think about just how much of a fool he'd been. He felt annoyed both at himself for misunderstanding the whole situation and at Merlin for putting himself in danger. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. "It would have saved us a lot of trouble."

"I _tried_ ," Merlin replied with a snort. "You weren't listening. I thought that maybe Lantis had enchanted you."

"So you decided to deal with him yourself?" he asked instead.

"Yes!" Merlin exclaimed. "You have no idea just how much I have to deal with, all by myself!"

"Ridiculous!" Arthur snapped back. "You're the one who's got no idea..."

"What?" Merlin asked.

Arthur shook his head. He couldn't tell Merlin, not after having acted like a perfect idiot. "Nothing," he said. "It's nothing. Let's go, I need some sleep."

 

\---

 

Gwen brought Arthur breakfast on the next day, which was just perfect. Arthur didn't feel like remembering his awkward conversation with Merlin this early in the morning (or, for that matter, ever again).

Arthur didn't know if Merlin had told Gwen about it. He probably had, though, judging by the way she was carefully avoiding to look at him as she set the breakfast table. She curtsied and left without saying anything, and Arthur allowed himself a moment of self-pity before attacking the cold ham.

He had almost cleaned the plate when there was a tentative knock and Gwen reappeared on the doorway. "I was just wondering," she said, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

"Yes?" Arthur asked, bracing himself for the worst. She didn't seem in any hurry to talk, though. "Guinevere," Arthur sighed.

Gwen looked around and closed the door behind her. "I feel silly for asking," she said with a small laugh. "You'll think this is silly."

"Whatever it is, you can tell me," Arthur said.

"You... don't like me, do you?" Gwen asked. Arthur felt puzzled for a moment. "I mean, not like _like_..."

Arthur laughed. "I don't hate you, but no, I don't like you in that way either," he replied.

"I thought so," Gwen said, sounding nevertheless very relieved. "But Morgana was saying some very strange things yesterday so I thought maybe..."

"No," Arthur said. "Definitely not any more."

"Good," Gwen nodded. "Wow, this is awkward. Sorry about it."

Arthur shrugged. "It's my fault," he said. "She thought you were the one I liked and I thought it would be easier if I didn't correct her."

At those words Gwen cheered up considerably. "So there _is_ someone you like!" she exclaimed.

Arthur pulled a face. He hadn't meant to let that slip. "Yes, but please don't ask me who," he said, forestalling Gwen's next question.

"Just tell me, do I know her?" Gwen asked.

"Yes, it's someone you know," Arthur admitted. (All this playing around with pronouns was starting to become tiresome.) Gwen made an undignified squealing noise and grinned from ear to ear.

Arthur sighed and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "But I don't think it's mutual," he said glumly. "And I don't know what to do."

"What about flowers?" Gwen suggested.

Arthur snorted. "In this case, I don't believe flowers would be well-received," he said.

"Why not?" Gwen insisted. "Everyone likes flowers."

"Do you think so?" Arthur asked.

Gwen nodded. She seemed so sure of it. Arthur wished he could have told her just why he thought flowers wouldn't work, but he couldn't mention Merlin. Wouldn't.

"I liked getting flowers from you," Gwen said suddenly. "I thought it was the most romantic thing you'd ever done for me."

"Really?" Arthur asked feeling himself blush. The flowers had been Merlin's work, but he'd never found the courage to confess it to Gwen.

Gwen misunderstood his reaction and hastened to add, "I mean, saving me was also very romantic. And brave." There was an awkward pause. "But I liked the flowers. Everyone likes flowers," she repeated.

"Thanks, Gwen," Arthur said, and she gave him a bright smile before leaving.

Arthur wished he could have fallen in love with a girl. Any girl would have been better than Merlin. At least he could have relied on flowers. Why did everyone keep thinking that flowers were some sort of magical catalyst for love, anyway?

He spent most of the day in the courtyard, avoiding Merlin and venting his frustration against one of the training dummies. His body didn't particularly approve of the treatment and would have rather gone to sleep for the next two days, but if Arthur was thinking about the pain in his muscles he didn't have time to think about Merlin.

He still felt awful as he joined his father and Morgana for dinner. Uther was in a surprisingly good mood, something that Arthur put down to the fact that Midsummer had passed and all the travelling artists had left without trying to take over Camelot.

Earlier, Arthur had given his father a brief resume of the previous night's events (glossing over some of the less-than-glorifying details such as him forgetting his own sword) and he'd made a point of mentioning how Merlin had helped find and take down the sorcerer.

Uther had just nodded absently and given Arthur a pat on the back, dismissing Merlin as an afterthought. As if Merlin didn't matter, at all. _'But he's important to me!'_ , Arthur wanted to tell him.

Except that he couldn't, because there was no telling how Uther would take the news that his only son and heir was desperately in love with his (male) servant.

Not that it mattered anyway. Whatever chances he had to make Merlin like him, he'd thrown away by yelling at him for no reason at all. Arthur wouldn't blame Merlin for hating him now. He hated himself for being an idiot too.

He was silent and sullen for most of the meal, picking at his food and letting his father and Morgana carry the conversation, speaking only when he was spoken to. Morgana had probably realized that something had happened between Arthur and his 'sweetheart' (hah!), but in a rare display of tact she had refrained from asking him any details.

But even Uther seemed to notice that something was amiss when Arthur left his food almost untouched. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Arthur shook his head. "Nothing," he said. It was a blatant lie, but maybe if he repeated it often enough he'd be able to persuade himself that he didn't mind being turned down by Merlin. Yes, as if.

He sighed. Morgana bit her lip and avoided his gaze.

"Are you sure?" Uther asked, unconvinced, and Arthur shook his head again. Because no, he wasn't sure, how could he be?

He hadn't been prepared for this. He was trained to fight monsters and lead knights in battle, not to fall in love with his manservant. Being in love was awful. How could anyone deal with it? How could anyone bear being in love with someone and _not knowing_ if they were loved back, or even worse, knowing that they _weren't_ loved back? It was driving him mad.

"How did you make my mother fall in love with you?" Arthur asked without thinking.

Uther's jaw dropped open and Arthur remembered a second too late that nobody mentioned the Lady Ygraine in front of Uther. Ever. Arthur started to stammer an apology but his father didn't seem mad at him. Just very, very sad.

"I didn't," he said eventually. "She just fell in love with me, I don't know why. She was beautiful and kind and could have married anyone she wanted."

"You're the King," Morgana pointed out.

Uther shook his head. "Ygraine never cared about that," he said. "She was very romantic." His voice was strange, as if something was caught in his throat, and was he blinking back tears? Arthur thought about the book, about how it had been a present from his father to his mother.

"I was afraid for the longest time that she would turn me down," Uther said. "But I thought I needed to tell her how important she was to me, because if I didn't I would always regret it."

Arthur thought he could see Uther, younger and unsure just as Arthur was now, and he finally understood. This wasn't about flowers, dresses, dates, serenades or what else. It was about Merlin, and his father had just given him a very good piece of advice: the most important thing was telling Merlin just how he felt.

Arthur pushed back his chair. "I've got to go," he said, ignoring his father's and Morgana's looks of surprise.

As he ran from the room he thought he could hear his father asking, "Who's the lucky lady?" and he hoped Morgana wasn't in a mood for gossiping. Later he'd have to think of some excuse to tell his father, because Merlin wasn't a lady, not at all, but at the moment he couldn't care less.

It didn't matter if Merlin turned him down. Okay, actually it mattered. _A lot_. But if he didn't try he'd never know and Arthur didn't think he could bear to spend another day like this.

Time to toughen up and confront his feelings. (That didn't sound very manly, didn't it?) Time to... conquer Merlin's heart. Whatever. He was prepared, or at least he was avoiding any thoughts about how unprepared he was. Nothing could stop him.

Or, Arthur amended coming to a halt in front of the door to Gaius's rooms, almost nothing.

He was ready to face Merlin, not Gaius. He didn't think he could face Gaius right now.

The old physician was full of tact and wouldn't have asked any indiscreet questions, but Arthur felt himself blushing at the thought of requesting a word with Merlin in private. Gaius might refrain from mentioning what had happened last night, but there would be raised eyebrows and curious glances, and Arthur really didn't want to deal with that.

At first Arthur thought he'd wait for Merlin to get out, but there were several obstacles to that. For one, it was past sunset, which meant Merlin might have gone to bed already. Then Arthur would have to wait until morning to see him, and he didn't think he could wait that long without going crazy.

Not to mention that the guards might have found it strange if the prince spent the night stalking the door to the physician's quarters.

Which left Arthur with one option only.

The window to Merlin's room was halfway up a tower but luckily Arthur had been trained to climb walls. He hadn't been trained so that he could sneak into his servant's room to declare his undying love, but since he could, why not? This was too good of a chance to pass.

Thankfully there were no guards patrolling this part of the castle, so nobody saw Arthur as he pressed himself to the stone wall and began his ascent. The wall was old and weathered and provided him with plenty of footholds. Something like that was nothing for him, just child's play. He'd faced much worse.

Sure, he thought about a third of the way up, the handholds were more of a problem. It would have been better if he'd remembered to bring his gloves, his fingers were starting to hurt. Not to mention his shoulder, which was definitely not okay with this kind of exertion.

Don't think about that, Arthur thought. Think of Merlin, who's waiting in that room. Not really _waiting_ , obviously, since he couldn't know that Arthur was down here climbing the wall. But Merlin was in that room, and that was all that mattered to Arthur.

Of course, his treacherous brain supplied, he wasn't sure that Merlin was in his room either. For all that Arthur knew, Merlin could have gone for a midnight stroll and Arthur was about to barge in on Gaius or something like that. Arthur quickly shut up that part of his brain before it talked him into jumping off the tower.

Think about positive things. Think about Merlin. Think about happy Merlin, Merlin smiling, Merlin yelling... No, not Merlin yelling, that wasn't helping. Think about Merlin spreading the salve on his shoulder...

His shoulder was _really_ hurting now.

He tried to grasp the next handhold, missed it by several inches and ended up scrabbling for purchase on the stone. He took several calming breaths and regained his balance, one arm dangling uselessly at his side.

Arthur grimaced and looked up. The window wasn't too far away, he'd climbed most of the distance already, but he still couldn't reach the window-sill. He didn't think he'd be able to make it there, not with the way his arm threatened to fall off his shoulder every time he tried to move it. Being so far up meant that he couldn't manage going down either, there was too much climbing involved, and jumping was definitely out of the question.

He was, in short, completely stuck on the wall under Merlin's window. He had to do something about it, preferably before his other shoulder decided to ditch him for good and send him plummeting to his untimely death.

"Help?" he called.

He kept his voice low, just in case anybody actually heard him. He was asking for help, but this didn't mean that he was okay with just anybody finding him there. In fact he'd rather nobody found him there, which might somewhat hamper his rescue, because his situation was awfully embarrassing.

In the end, the instinct of self-preservation won out. Arthur cleared his throat. "Help?" he called again.

For a while all was silent. Arthur was about to give up all pretences of dignity and start screaming when the window opened and Merlin poked out his head. "Arthur?" he asked, surprised.

"Merlin?" Arthur called back, craning his head to look at him. Not that he had any doubts that it was really Merlin, but it was better than any of the other greetings he'd thought of, such as, _'I happen to be stuck halfway up this wall, could you please help me?'_ , or, _'I love you but I think I'm an idiot, do you love me back?'_

"What are you doing there?" Merlin asked.

"Long story," Arthur replied. "I don't think I've got time to explain. Could you give me a hand up?"

He couldn't see Merlin well, but Arthur thought he was frowning at him. "Can't you just climb up?" he asked.

"Nope. Shoulder," Arthur said. "Hurts." He was starting to get out of breath. Trust Merlin to start blabbering in the most inopportune situations.

"Oh," Merlin replied, pulling a face. "I'll go get Gaius."

"No!" Arthur exclaimed, panicking. Anything but that. "Just... throw me a rope. Or something. Have you got a rope?"

"No," Merlin said. "Yes!"

"Which one is it?" Arthur asked.

"Maybe I can find a rope, can you hold on a little more?" Merlin said.

Arthur glared at him and then said, "No," because now wasn't the time to try and be subtle. He could feel his fingers losing their grip.

Merlin pulled a face, then he leaned almost completely out of the window and grabbed Arthur's arm. Arthur's eyes widened. "You'll fall!" he exclaimed.

"So will you," Merlin replied with a grunt. "Hold on," he added, not that Arthur needed any encouragement for that. He scrabbled for purchase on the wall with his injured arm, managing to climb up another couple of inches.

Then Merlin managed to hook his arms under Arthur's shoulders and Arthur half climbed and was half pulled into the window. Arthur collapsed to the floor with a groan. He felt as if all air had been knocked from his lungs. Thinking straight was difficult as well.

His first thought was that he was alive and had just avoided to die by splattering himself on the flagstones below, which was a good thing. To die like that would have been worse than being eaten by a Wildren. And Merlin had just saved his life, again.

After this less-than-spectacular entrance, Arthur was unsure of what to say. "I thought we were both going to die," he managed after a while, since Merlin's feat had been nothing short of miraculous.

"I'm stronger than I look," Merlin replied sitting down next to him. "What were you doing out there anyway?"

Arthur slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. Standing up was currently not an option, not with the way his head was spinning. He licked his lips. Climbing that wall was nothing compared to the tension he was feeling now. "I wanted to talk to you," he said, fully aware of how pitiful that sounded.

Merlin, predictably, looked at him as if he'd just sprouted a second head. "You do remember about doors, right?" he asked. "They're useful to get into a room without risking your neck."

"Yes, Merlin, thank you," Arthur snorted. "I just, er, wanted to avoid Gaius." Saying it out loud made it sound even more stupid.

Merlin frowned. "Why, what's the problem with Gaius?" he asked.

Arthur looked away. "Er," he said. "Nothing. It's just, er, there's something I wanted to tell you."

"I think I know what this is all about," Merlin said. Arthur's heart skipped a beat. He turned around to stare at Merlin but before he could reply Merlin said, "You really are under a spell, aren't you?"

"What?" Arthur spluttered. "No, I'm not!" he exclaimed.

"You've been acting strange all week!" Merlin replied. "And... Gaius told me about last night," he added. "He said you were trying to _serenade_ under my window."

Arthur groaned. "About that..." he began, but he trailed off. How could he even start to explain? It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Arthur, please," Merlin said slowly. "If you're enchanted you need to tell me."

"I'm not enchanted," Arthur repeated dully.

"So why are you acting like this?" Merlin asked, making a vague gesture that included Arthur, the window and probably also every stupid thing that Arthur had done in the past few days.

Arthur took a long breath and stared at Merlin. "I love you," he said.

Merlin blinked, staring back at Arthur for what seemed like ages. He'd never noticed just how blue Merlin's eyes were. "I knew it," Merlin said eventually, "you _are_ enchanted."

Arthur sighed. It had taken him all of his courage to say those few words. He'd expected rejection, disgust, maybe even anger. Not this cold dismissal, as if the idea of Arthur falling in love with Merlin was utterly unbelievable.

It had been a long day, Arthur was battered and tired and he didn't feel like arguing. Merlin was only a few feet away. "Don't worry," Merlin was saying. "We'll find a way to snap you out of it."

Arthur leaned forward and kissed him.

As far as kisses went it wasn't very sophisticated, just Arthur brushing his lips against Merlin's tentatively, softly, scared that Merlin would push him away at any moment. But Merlin didn't. He just sat on the floor and let Arthur kiss him. Then Arthur felt a hand on the back on his head, and Merlin was tilting his head and pulling Arthur _closer_.

Merlin's lips parted, slightly, and there was no room for misunderstandings now, this was nothing but an invitation. Arthur hadn't even dared to think about this, couldn't have seen it happen anywhere but in his wildest dreams, but now that it was finally happening he had no idea how could he have gone on for so long without kissing Merlin.

When they finally pulled apart to breathe Arthur kept one arm around Merlin's shoulders, as if he was afraid Merlin would run away if he didn't.

"So," Merlin said after a while. "Not under a spell, then?"

Arthur shook his head forcefully. "I might have been confused, and I might have acted like a fool," he said, and Merlin smiled at that. "But I really do love you."

Merlin sighed and leaned more into Arthur. "I thought you were mocking me," he said. "At first I thought you'd found out that I had this huge crush on you and..."

"Wait, what huge crush?" Arthur asked, not quite believing what he was hearing. " _You_ had a crush on _me_?"

"Er, yes," Merlin replied. "Since shortly after I met you." Arthur groaned. "Why else did you think I put up with your spoiled prince antics?"

"I'm not spoiled," Arthur replied. His haughty tone was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was playing with Merlin's hair.

"You are too," Merlin insisted. "You're spoiled, prattish and totally without any common sense."

Arthur tried to keep a straight face, but it was difficult when Merlin was smiling at him like that.

"That's slander!" he said.

"That's just the truth, Arthur," Merlin laughed. "No common sense. You just climbed into my bedroom window, halfway up a tower!"

"And a good thing that I did, too," Arthur replied. "If I hadn't, who knows how long you'd have gone on pining for me?"

"I wasn't pining for you," Merlin began, but Arthur shut him up with a kiss.

" _I_ was," he whispered against his lips, and that stopped any further objections that Merlin could have had. Arthur leaned back against the wall and snuggled closer to Merlin, burying his face into Merlin's shoulder.

He closed his eyes and for some time he didn't think about anything but Merlin. In truth he'd spent the whole day just thinking about Merlin, but now it was okay because he didn't have to worry about Merlin hating him any more.

It seemed as if Merlin still thought that he was a prat, but Arthur thought he didn't terribly mind as long as he got to snog Merlin. He could compromise.

"Arthur," Merlin asked after a while, "are you going back to your room?"

"You're kicking me out?" Arthur said without moving, his voice somehow muffled by Merlin's shirt. "That's cold. I just risked life and limb to get here, you know."

"That's not what I meant," Merlin replied. "It's just, er, I don't know if you thought about it..."

"What?" Arthur asked, pressing a soft kiss to Merlin's collarbone.

"You're going to have to explain to Gaius how you magically appeared into my room without going through the door," Merlin said.

Arthur made a face. "That's what you were thinking about?" he asked, outraged. Typical of Merlin, always spoiling the moment. Though he did make it hard to be angry at him, with his stupid adorable face and his stupid adorable smile. "You should have been thinking about me!"

"I'm thinking about you explaining to Gaius," Merlin said with a grin. "What are you going to tell him?"

"We can think about that together," Arthur said, pulling Merlin closer. "Tomorrow."


End file.
